


Meetings

by Hedge_M



Category: Original Work
Genre: D&D-Inspired Story, First Meetings, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Original Fiction, Other, POV Multiple, Rìona made this T-rated because she has a potty mouth, at this point it's not even really D&D lol, gay happenings, we got creative with A LOT of things, worldbuilding i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27580580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hedge_M/pseuds/Hedge_M
Summary: Cass, Max, and Niamh all have different motivations but a similar goal: Survive in a world where magic-users such as themselves are forced to submit to a corrupt tyrant, the human king who believes magic should be controlled and regulated. And although the terms aren't specific as to who gets the right to use magic, it's clear that it only applied to humans. But in a world full of many hostile magical creatures and territory disputes, unjust laws are the least of their worries.
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to an in-progress story I'm working on with my friends, which takes place two years earlier than the events in the main story. One of my friends said that I should put this up on Ao3, so I said, "eh what the hell sure."

Cass’s day so far had already been less than ideal, and the angry cockatrice that was currently trying to bite her did not help in the slightest. 

Between running low on coins and having to leave town early to avoid suspicion, she really did not want to deal with this right now. But despite her unwillingness to engage with the beast, it screams and squawks furiously at her. It starts chasing after the dragonborn as if her mere existence offends it.

Running away proves useless; the cockatrice is faster than Cass, who was going to tire herself out before outrunning the enraged creature. Drawing her sword, she grimaces at the hideous monster. 

Cass narrowly dodges the cockatrice’s snapping beak, her heart jumping at how close its sharp teeth come to connecting with her flesh. She had learned enough about cockatrices to know that it could permanently petrify any creature with its bite. On top of that, a particularly nasty venom coated their scraggly feathers. This could seep into the skin of whoever brushed against the avian creature, which led to a slower and much more painful demise.

She dodges it again, and while it’s occupied with readjusting its course, Cass swings her sword with a yell, the heavy blade coming down at its neck. But the cockatrice is too fast, and her sword strikes the earth instead. It screeches at her and charges once more. 

This goes on for quite a bit, and Cass begins to feel winded from exertion. After failing multiple times to land a hit with her sword, she attempts to use magic to fend off the cockatrice. But she finds that the best she can manage are a few sparks from her fingers.

 _I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do this_ , Cass thinks ruefully as she realizes there was only one thing she can do at this point. 

Using the same trick earlier to momentarily distract the creature, she then quickly removes her enchanted signet ring and her disguise falls away. Her golden yellow scales glint in the sunlight, which—of course—the cockatrice does not seem to appreciate at all. 

Cass worries constantly about the lack of control she held over her abilities, but she forces herself to push past her doubts. _Now is not the time for apprehension._

She feels the heat fill her throat and mouth, and then she lets the bright flames spill from her jaws. As usual, her precision is lacking, and she only manages to barely singe the cockatrice’s feathers. Of course, this angered it even more, and it continues to charge at her with its toothy beak.

Cass stumbles back, tripping over a tree root and falling to the ground. She scrambles away, the shrieking beast fast approaching. She closes her eyes and braces herself for the inevitable. But then, a deafening roar sounds to her right, and when she opens her eyes, she finds that a reddish-brown blur has tackled the cockatrice to the ground.

She can hardly believe her eyes as she watches this burgundy-furred creature claw and growl at the cockatrice, its bright blue eyes blazing with aggression. The cockatrice shrinks away from the larger animal and squawks halfheartedly before fleeing.

Her relief is short-lived, for she realizes that the smaller, chicken-like monster that had tormented her for the past half hour had been replaced by a considerably larger beast. Cass grips her sword, grunting as she climbs to her feet. The bear-like creature looks at Cass and then does something entirely unexpected.

It turns into a person.

.

.

.

The former beast that stood before Cass groans and stretches, wincing as they shake out their arms, which seem to have taken some damage from coming into contact with the cockatrice’s venomous feathers. Cass simply gapes at them, finding it hard to form words due to shock and fatigue. 

They finally notice her staring, looking a bit concerned as they jog over to Cass. “Are you alright? I couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be in a bit of a pickle, so I just thought I should try to not let you die.” The person blinks up at her with bright blue eyes that almost seem to glow faintly in the shade, and Cass realizes she can’t quite figure out what exactly this person is. 

They’re covered in a thin layer of pale tawny red fur, and their hair is a darker shade of the color and somehow manages to look spiky and fluffy at the same time. Their ears are long and covered in fuzz, looking almost faun-like. They tilt their head slightly, one of their ears twitching as they wait for her to answer.

Cass blinks, remembering they had asked her a question, and clears her throat as she averts her gaze from the stranger. “I’m fine, just a bit winded, that’s all. That thing would _not_ let up. Honestly, it was quite aggressive for a cockatrice.” 

They hum in agreement. “Yeah, I think it might have been afflicted with something, probably rabies. Poor thing.”

Cass finds the stranger’s pity for the creature odd but also sort of charming. Either this person is very compassionate, or just very naïve. Her eyes settle on the person’s arms, noticing the angry red blotches forming under their light fur. “Your arms…”

They look down, rubbing them carefully with a wince. “Oh, yeah, I guess tackling a cockatrice wasn’t the smartest thing I could have done, but honestly, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

Cass opens her satchel, pulling out some bandages. “Here, these should help. It’s the least I can do since you saved me. I’m not very good at healing magic, so they might not be that strong, sorry.”

They stare at Cass as if they weren’t expecting her to express her gratitude at all. “Oh! Uh, thanks.” The person takes the bandages and plops down in the grass. Cass leans back against the tree and slides down to join them on the ground.

They start to wrap their arms, but they grimace almost immediately and stop. Pulling up their shirt, they sigh upon seeing the same red rash painted across their torso as well.

Cass’s brow pinches in concern. “Do you need some help with that?”

They remove their shirt, already wrapping the bandages around their waist and up to their chest. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” But the way they grit their teeth as they spoke ends up worrying Cass even more. 

She moves closer to them and gently stills their hands. “Please, it’s my fault you got hurt in the first place. This is nothing compared to what you did.”

Their bright blue eyes stare at her, a nonplussed expression evident on their face. They hesitate for a moment before they accede and allow her to help

As she carefully continues to wrap the gauze around their chest, Max tries to start an actual conversation with her. “Thank you, um...sorry, I realized I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Max.” 

Cass holds their gaze for an extended moment, then quickly returns her focus to patching them up. 

Max seems to wait patiently for a moment, then they glance at her curiously. “Not that I’m forcing you to or anything, but...are you going to tell me your name?”

Cass finishes dressing their left arm and moves on to the right. She hesitates before she answers carefully. “I don’t...I don’t normally give my name to strangers, but...considering you’ve done nothing but help me and show me kindness, I suppose I can entrust you with at least that much.” She looks at them directly once more. “My name’s Cass.”

They gaze back at her with a soft smile, and Cass can’t completely suppress the flutter she felt in her chest. She realizes that she had stopped wrapping their arm in her distracted state, and hastily finishes the job, gently securing the bandage in place. 

“There, you should feel better after about a day or so. You might need to replace the bandages before then, though. Actually…” She falters, considering whether or not she could ask more of this stranger. “Maybe…” 

Max, having put their shirt back on, looks at her curiously. “What is it?”

Cass fiddles with the ring in her pocket, thanking the gods that it was still there after that intense struggle. “I was wondering where you might be headed, just out of curiosity.”

Max looks a bit surprised, but they answer without any dubiety. “I was making my way East when I ran into you, on my way to the coastal area. Not quite sure what town I was going to hit first, I usually just pass through whichever places I come across.” 

The look on Cass’s face is one full of uncertainty. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that...could I perhaps...join you?” 

Max stares at her, momentarily startled. Cass notices their expression and quickly rushes to explain, her words coming uncharacteristically fast. _It’s probably just guilt_. “Well, I know this seems out of nowhere, but my situation’s getting dire. If I go with you, we could help each other. I will do anything to repay you, please.”

They put their hands up in a placating gesture, giving her a reassuring smile. “Cass, slow down. I was going to accept your offer. You don’t need to beg.” 

Relief floods through Cass as she registers Max’s words. “Oh, thank the gods.” She scrambles to her feet. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

Max attempts to stand up, but they grunt in pain and plunk back down in the grass. 

Cass helps them to their feet, careful not to jostle them too much in fear of causing any more pain. “The bandages should help ease the pain, at least until we can get an actual cure-”

“You mean the super rare phoenix tears that cost an arm a few legs?” They mumble to themself.

“-But you’re definitely in no condition to carry that bag there.” She points to the pack that sat in the grass and scoops it up with one arm, shouldering the bag like it weighed practically nothing.

They study her serious expression with interest, looking bemused. Then, they chuckle to themselves. “I can already tell you’re one of those chivalrous types, aren’t you?”

Cass doesn’t know whether or not they meant it as a compliment, but before she can decide, Max laughs again. “Relax, I meant that in a good way.” Their smirk turns into a genuine smile. “We need more people like you in the world, y’know?”

The dragonborn feels a little off balance at that, and she tries to cover it up with a laugh. “You say that like you’re not the same, Mx. ‘I-Tackle-Cockatrices-To-Save-Random- Strangers.’”

Max snorts a laugh, their face flushing slightly. “Well, you got me there.” Once their laughter subsides, they look around, trying to figure out where the nearest trail is. “We should head off now if we want to make any significant distance before nightfall.”

Cass nods, and the two leave the clearing and begin their trek to the coast. 

.

.

.

It takes about an hour for Cass to remember she hasn’t put her ring back on, and the realization made her feel dangerously exposed. She takes the golden band out of her pocket, slipping it on her finger. The change is instantaneous, and she can never tell if it worked unless she looks down at her now human hands. 

Beside her, she hears a sharp inhale from her new travel companion. They clear their throat, and she notices their ears have gone down slightly, their face flushed. “Oh, uh… that’s...cool,” they remark lamely. Max cringes at their own words. “Sorry, I just meant... I shouldn’t be surprised that you have a glamor, but I guess it’s just strange to see a dragonborn disguise themself, considering your status with the emperor.”

She tenses up when they mentioned the emperor, their comment an ugly reminder of her father’s weakness. Cass shakes her head, replacing her glower with a thin smile. “No, it’s just...a precaution, I suppose.”

They nod, ears perking back up. “That makes sense. Though I must say, that is a very impressive glamor. Did you craft it yourself?”

Cass chuckles sheepishly. “Yes, I did. It took a few tries, but I managed to also restrict my fire breath to avoid any… unfortunate accidents while trying to remain undercover.”

A light laugh escapes their lips. “That would be unfortunate, indeed.”

They don’t press any further about why she needed a glamor, only continuing the light conversation with her. Cass feels immensely grateful for that.

She often takes herself too seriously, especially since she’d been alone for so long, but this person made her feel more at ease. Less lonely. Which she thought was a weird thing to think of about someone she just met. She decides to push away those uncertain thoughts and focus on the conversation at hand.

It doesn’t take long for Cass to notice how the shapeshifter likes to steer away from any topics concerning themself, but she doesn’t mind. They don’t pry too much about her past either, so she was happy to leave it at that.

The bright blue sky eventually melts into a medley of pinks and oranges, and the sun is no longer visible above the canopy. Cass notices and looks over at Max. “We should probably stop and rest for the night…” she says as she slows her pace.

Max stops as well, blinking up at the sky as if they just realized the sun was setting. “Oh! You’re right, I’ll set up camp.”

Cass reaches for their shoulder to stop Max from grabbing their pack, but thinks better of it. Instead, she rests her hand on top of their head. The dragonborn looks down at them and shakes her head. “I’ll do it. You should rest.” She lifts her hand from the shapeshifter’s head, unintentionally ruffling their soft hair in the process. “I’ll check your bandages when I’m finished.”

They wear an expression that Cass could’ve sworn was a pout, but they don’t argue with her. Max sits in the grass and waits patiently.

“In the meantime, look in my bag, and you’ll find some pieces of jerky in a metal container. It’s not much, but it’ll keep you from going hungry.” Max nods, scooting over next to the larger bag, and begins poking around until they find the tin. 

Cass sets up a small campfire, deciding to light it with magic instead of her breath, not wanting to cause a forest fire. After she gets the fire going, she pulls out her bedroll and lays it near the fire. She looks over at Max, who was drawing in the dry soil with their finger as they held a stick of jerky in their teeth. “Do you have something that you use to sleep on? I noticed you don’t have a bedroll.” 

The shapeshifter’s ears prick up in her direction, their eyes soon following. Max shakes their head. “I usually hide my things and sleep next to them as some generic-looking animal, like a jackalope or a badger. Saves me from having to carry around extra supplies.”

Cass sighs, realizing that this person is terrible at taking care of themself. “You’re sleeping on mine then. I can use the cloak I have in my bag.”

They stand up, looking like they wanted to argue, but they wobble on their feet, their ears pinned down and their face contorted in pain. Cass rushes to steady them before they fall, gently helping them sit back down on the grass. They don’t say anything, but she can see the way their jaw tightens at the slightest movement of their upper half. 

Her hands hover over their shoulders, not wanting to infringe on their personal boundaries. They meet her green gaze and give her a short nod. After removing their shirt, she carefully undoes their bandages, grimacing at the worsened state of their wounds. She laments briefly upon realizing she had overestimated her abilities once again. 

She searches her bag for more bandages, brows furrowing when she finds only a few left. Barely enough to redress their wounds. Cass had barely started wrapping the enchanted cloth around the shapeshifter’s arm when they jolt from the contact.

“Sorry,” Max gives her a wavering smile. “I can’t tell if this is actually serious or if I’m just being a big baby.”

Cass shakes her head sternly, looking at them with a solemn expression. “Cockatrice venom is very serious, Max. The bandages slowed it down, but I’m honestly surprised they’ve lasted this long.”

They chuckle. “My kind are more resilient than most. That probably had something to do with it.”

“I’m going to try again. Are you ready?” Max takes a deep breath, then they give her a sharp nod. 

Cass gingerly redresses their wounds, careful not to wrap them too tightly over their reddened skin. They hiss whenever she goes too fast or brushes against the irritated flesh, and by the time Cass secures the last bandage in place, their brilliant blue eyes are brimmed with tears from the pain. 

She examines them with concern. “Are you alright? They’re not too tight, are they?” They shook their head, hastily wiping their eyes. 

“No, they’re fine.” Max bites back a curse when they reach for their shirt. They sigh, abandoning the piece of clothing, and slowly crawl onto the bedroll. Cass looks at them worriedly, but then, an idea hits her. She moves to sit by Max, grabbing a small, wooden trinket from her bag. She mutters something in Draconian under her breath, and it grows into a normal-sized lute.

Max peers over at her, the look of amused realization dawning on their face. “Are...are you a _bard_?”

Cass’s scales feel hot, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Oh, uh, I guess so? I don’t know what qualifies one to be a bard. But I do know music and magic. I was just going to sing something to help you sleep.”

They make themself as comfortable as they can with their injuries and stare at Cass with an expectant expression. Cass clears her throat, shoving away her nervousness, and begins strumming gently.

The soft chords fill the warm evening air, Cass’s quiet, mellow voice soon following. Max watches her as she sings, enraptured by the sound. However, she doesn’t notice their stare or their captivated gaze. Cass focuses her magic into the song, weaving a sleep spell into the lyrics. 

When Cass looks back up at Max, she finds them fast asleep, snoring softly. She silently sets her lute down with the rest of their things and pulls her cloak out from her bag. After laying it out on the ground near the sleeping shapeshifter, Cass quickly casts a small barrier around their campsite, only lying down to sleep after she makes sure that it’s secure.

Wrapping herself in the old maroon cloak, she looks over at Max, who mumbles something in their sleep, but otherwise remains still. Cass feels the guilt for the shapeshifter’s pain weighing down heavily on her conscience. But right now, she’s too tired to properly bully herself about it and eventually drifts off to sleep.

.

.

.

“ _Cass!_ ”

A startled cry wakes Cass immediately, and she’s on her feet in seconds. “What’s wrong? What…” she falters when she sees Max, her heart dropping in her chest.

They still lay on the bedroll where she last saw them, their face is panic-stricken, eyes wide and ears pinned down. Her eyes shift to their bandaged torso, but she notices how their arms look stiff, almost frozen in place. 

The shapeshifter looks up at her with fear in their eyes. “I can’t move my arms!”

Cass can’t waste anymore time now, so she quickly douses the fire, gathering all of their things up and slips the backpack on. Luckily, it isn’t too heavy, so with her strength, she carries it with ease. She mutters a short incantation, shrinking the lute back into a pocket-sized trinket, putting it in one of the side pouches of the bag.

She gathers her cloak and scoops up the injured shapeshifter in her arms, carrying them securely in the fabric. They don’t wince from the contact, which worries Cass even more, but she doesn’t ponder it too much.

Now she’s sprinting through the forest, off towards the nearest town. Panic threatens to overwhelm her, but she refuses to be the cause of her new friend’s demise, especially since they had saved her life before.

She doesn’t know how long she'd been running, but when she catches sight of wooden town gates, she sighs inwardly from relief. The gates are open, and the guards—who appear to be an assortment of gnomes and fey—look up from their posts and stare with concerned expressions as she approaches.

One of them holds up their hands, urging her to slow down. “Halt! What-”

“Please, my friend, they- I need to find a healer!” Her patience grew thinner by the second, and she can feel the claws of desperation at her throat. 

“Slow down, lass,” the gnome says in a calming tone. “What happened?”

“Cockatrice venom- it’s-” she stammers out, giving up on words and simply shows the guard the terrified shapeshifter in her arms. His eyes widen, both confusion and concern warring on his face momentarily before he settles for steely determination. 

He barks over his shoulder at a couple of guards, ordering them to remain at the gate while he leads the distressed dragonborn into the town. Cass thanks the gods that he has a horse big enough to carry both of them. She holds Max securely in her arms throughout the ride, but the shapeshifter still clings to her by their ankles since their arms are paralyzed. 

The guard stops in front of a small white building that looks like a piece of enormous pottery. He raps on the door with his fist and waits a bit. After a moment, an old, gnomish woman peeks outside, craning her neck to squint up at Cass.

“This one’s in need of some medical attention, Rìona.” The gnomish guard gestures at the shapeshifter.

The woman’s eyes land on Max, who still seems shaken up by their current condition. She tsks softly and shakes her head, pushing the door open, and motions for them to come in.

Cass starts to walk towards the door, but the woman holds up her hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Ye wait outside. I’ll see to it tha’ yer friend's taken care of.”

The dragonborn opens her mouth to argue but Max interrupts her. “It’s alright, Cass. You wouldn’t be able to fit through the door anyway. You’re too tall.” They laugh, but the sound is brittle and strained. Cass looks at the door, cursing the fact that they’re right: there is no way she could walk through the doorway without slamming her face into the wall. 

After a moment of hesitation, she deflates and sets Max down so they can stand. They nearly fall over, but Cass and the guard steady them quickly. 

Cass watches the healer lead Max into the building, the old wooden door closing behind them. She leans against the wall, sliding to the ground with her head in her hands. The gnomish guard looks at her with sympathetic amber eyes and sits down next to her.

“I’m certain they’ll be jus’ fine. Rìona is one o' the bes’ healers in the Feywilds, so ya got nothin’ ta worry aboot.” Cass appreciates his words, but she still can’t help but worry about her companion. 

The guard pats her arm comfortingly—he’s too short to reach her shoulder while he is sitting down—and stands up. “Yer friend will be in there fer a while. Why don’tcha follow me? Ya seem like ye could use some good food. Ma husband’s diner is jus’ down th’ road, nae too far frae here.”

Cass knows she’d feel guilty for refusing the kind man, so she decides to follow him down the street towards the diner he spoke of.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max gets patched up and meets a potential new friend in the process.

Max waits for the healer—Rìona, that was her name—to return after she had sat them down on one of the cots and scuttled off to the next room without a word. Even though the shapeshifter had convinced Cass to wait outside, they started wishing she had stayed with them, now that they sit in the empty hospital.

Only a couple of other patients were in the room, both of them asleep. They had managed to calm down enough to think clearly, but the shapeshifter’s heart still hasn’t stopped pounding, and the lump in their throat still remains. 

Despite the circumstances, they refuse to cry in front of strangers, no matter who they were. Max still hated the fact that they were barely able to keep it together the previous night when Cass had redressed their wounds.

They hear the sound of glass shattering nearby, and the shapeshifter stiffly cranes their neck to see what the commotion was. Their eyes land on a young gnomish girl in the doorway, frantically trying to clean the mess up.

Max adjusts themself so they can sit up, their legs hanging off the cot. “Do you need some help over there?” they ask. The girl squeaks and her head snaps up, amber eyes wide behind her round glasses. 

“Oh uh, n-no, Ah’m awright.” Her eyes land on their stiffened arms, expression turning apologetic. “Besides, Ah don’t think yoo’re in any condition tae be cleanin’ up broken glass.”

Max frowns, wishing the gnome’s words didn’t sting as much as they did. Then, an idea comes to them and they wiggle their toes experimentally. They mutter the incantation and concentrate on the glass, using their bare feet instead of their hands as a focus as they move the glass into a pile. The girl startles a bit when the pieces start sliding slowly across the floor, and she blinks up at them in bewilderment.

“How’re ya doin’ tha’?” She asks, tilting her head as she observes their strange method.

They finish pushing the scattered pieces into a pile and meet the gnome’s golden eyes with a small smile. “I taught myself this a while ago. I figured if my hands were ever full, I should be able to still do focused magic. Feet are basically hands you walk on when you really think about it.”

The girl laughs at their strange logic and gets to her feet, leaving the room briefly before coming back with a brush and dustpan. She quickly sweeps up the pile into the pan, emptying it in the trash barrel. Max watches the girl leave again, and when she returns, Rìona is with her.

“Well, it’s good tae see tha’ th’ shock is wearin’ aff. Though, yoo’re still lookin’ a bit peely-wally,” the older woman remarks brusquely as she walks over to their cot. The amber-eyed girl stands silently behind her, watching Rìona with rapt attention. Max realizes that this girl is probably the healer’s apprentice.

They turn their attention back to the healer, who examines their arms. “Ah’ll need tae remove th’ bandages.” Max nods, and she unwraps their arms and torso, her bushy gray eyebrows furrowing as she studies their upper half. “Aye, that’d be cockatrice venom, though i’s a right miracle only yer arms are frozen stiff.” 

Max doesn’t see it that way, considering they value their hands most of all. Their voice comes out fast and nervous, “You can still treat it though, right?” 

Rìona rolls her eyes at them. “O’ coorse Ah can, dinnae gie yer knickers in a twist.” She turns to the younger gnome. “Niamh, c’n ya fetch me th’ phoenix tears frae th’ back?”

The girl—Niamh—nods and hurries off to the next room. Max sits in awkward silence with the older woman, who stares at them scrutinizingly. “Yoo’re nae frae around here, are ye?”

Max’s ears flick down as they realize they haven’t shifted since the clearing, and they stick out like a sore thumb regardless of where they are. “Um...no, not really…” They falter, not sure how much they should disclose to the elderly gnomish healer.

Fortunately, Niamh returns quickly, and the healer turns away from Max to take the small reddish vial from the girl. “How much dae we hae left?” 

“Only one mair bottle, after thes one,” Niamh replies gravely. 

Rìona shakes her head, muttering to herself. She turns back to the shapeshifter to address them. “Ah’ll be back in a moment, Ah need tae prepare th’ tears properly. Ye jus’ sit here an’ try nae tae fash yerse’. Th’ stress is nae good fer ye.”

The older woman exits the room, leaving Max alone with Niamh, who has been checking on the other patients. For one of the patients, whose leg is set in a thick cast, she hovers her hands over their injured limb and seems to mutter something before wisps of luminescent teal magic twist their way around the cast, almost covering it completely. 

Max watches her work, fascinated by the display of magic. Healing magic wasn’t uncommon, but it was rare to see it this powerful. The gnome completes the spell, and the turquoise glow fades away, then she looks up to find Max staring at her. 

Niamh looks a bit startled when she meets their intense blue gaze. She ducks her head back down, moving on to the next patient. The shapeshifter moves to sit on the other side of the cot. “That was really impressive.”

The girl has her back facing Max, preventing them from seeing her expression. But the way she tenses up doesn’t escape their notice. They continue cautiously. “So how long have you been Rìona’s apprentice?”

Niamh’s hands still momentarily, and she sighs before resuming her work. She doesn’t turn to face them, still tending to the other patient, but her tone is flat as she replies. “Only aboot a year, Ah suppose. Yoo’re awfy observant, aren’t ye?” 

They shrug, not denying it. “It’s a skill I’ve picked up over the years.” Max questions her again, their curiosity growing. “That’s some powerful magic you got there for someone who’s only been an apprentice for a year.”

Niamh, now finished checking on the patient, finally turns to face the inquisitive shapeshifter. Her round, amber eyes are wide with disbelief. “Whit dae ya mean by tha’?”

Max rolls their eyes. “Come on, I could feel it from here. You’ve got a lot of talent.”

The gnome shakes her head, confused by their words. “Yoo’re over exaggeratin’. Ah only know a few healin’ spells, an’ Ah can hardly dae anythin’ like whit ye did earlier.”

The shapeshifter sighs, shaking their head stiffly. “You may not be a master, but I know you got potential. I’m sure at least Rìona thinks you do. I mean, she _is_ your teacher.” Niamh doesn’t answer, but the way she looks at the floor downcast tells them everything they need to know. “Oh...I’m sorry. I just thought-”

Niamh interrupts their floundering with a bright smile, although it looks a bit forced. “It’s fine, ya dinnae need tae be sorry. Ah…” She glances at the floor again, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Ah guess Ah shoulda took th’ compliment, Ah was bein’ rude. E’en though Ah don’t really agree wi’ ye...thenk ya. Fer sayin’ tha’.”

Niamh doesn’t let Max respond, hastily walking over to the shelves on the other side of the room. Max can tell she doesn’t want to talk anymore by the way she pointlessly reorganizes the contents in the cabinets. They sigh inwardly, feeling sorry for the girl, but there isn’t much more they can do. 

Rìona returns with a bowl in one hand and, to their confusion, something that looks like a paintbrush in the other. The healer sets down the items on the bedside table, noticing the puzzled look they gave her. “Stop gawpin’ at me like Ah got piss on mah face,” she says sharply. 

They flinch and quickly school their expression, mumbling apologies to her. Rìona rolls her eyes—Max worries that at this rate, they’d roll back into her head—and takes the brush in her hand. She dips it into the bowl, coating it in the shiny, translucent mixture.

She starts applying the paste to their arms, though it worries Max that they can’t feel it at all. Eventually, the healer coats their entire torso in the substance, and Rìona examines them before giving a satisfied nod. “Ye’ll be fine ‘n a few hours ‘r so. Ye c’n go,” she starts off plainly, but her tone quickly sharpens, “but yoo’d hae tae leave yer shirt aff, tae keep frae wipin’ th’ phoenix tears aff. They’re expensive, y’hear?”

Max nods nervously and stands up from the cot. “Thank-” they begin, but the healer turns away abruptly and walks out of the room. “-you.” With a sigh, they turn to pick up their shirt, groaning when they remember that they still can’t move their arms. They stand there helplessly, knowing that Niamh was still nearby but not wanting to bother her.

But Niamh sees them and realizes their dilemma, and before they can object, the girl scoops up Max’s things for them. “Sorry, Rìona’s nae exactly… well, she’s jus’ busy, tha’s all. So, don’t take it personally.”

Max feels bad about having to rely on Niamh to carry their things when she already seemed so busy herself, but they don’t really know how they would carry their shirt and Cass’s cloak without using their arms. So, the shapeshifter doesn’t object when the gnome accompanies them even after they leave the hospital.

Max realizes after stepping outside onto the old cobbled street that Cass had gone off somewhere else. The town doesn’t seem that big, but they don’t exactly want to spend the whole day looking for their companion.

Niamh looks at them in confusion when they stop. “Wha’s th’ matter? Dae ye nae feel well?”

They look down at her, realizing that they were just standing in place. “What? No, I-I’m fine.”

The gnome still looks at them with concern. “Ye sure? Ya looked like ye was gonnae boke ‘r somethin’.”

They shake their head, simultaneously trying to shake off their nerves. _Come on, this isn’t the first time you’ve been alone,_ they scold themself. _Plus, you’re not even alone, idiot!_

Niamh sighs and looks around the street. “So… yoo lookin’ fer somebody? Ah thought Ah heard someain talkin’ tae ye before ye came in.”

Max nods. “Yes, my friend, Cass. Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?”

She thinks for a moment, then her expression flattens slightly. “It was a guard tha’ led ye 'ere, right?”

They cock their head in confusion. “I...think so, why?”

Niamh doesn’t answer their question, only letting out a gusty sigh and beckons for them to follow her.

.

.

.

The girl takes Max to a quaint looking restaurant with a hanging wooden sign above the door that reads “ _A ’Phoit-leaghaidh_ ” with a simple carved image of a pot with a spoon stirring its contents.

Niamh pushes the painted wooden door open, and Max admires the twisting patterns carved into the wood as they follow her inside.

Max immediately spots Cass, who stood nearby talking to an excited-looking gnomish man. The dragonborn’s great height was exaggerated now that she was surrounded by gnomes and various fey.

Cass glances up at them and looks visibly relieved. She politely excuses herself from the enthusiastic gnome and makes her way through the restaurant, careful not to bump into any tables as she does so.

“Max!” She glances down and notices their missing shirt. “Uh, did you...lose something?”

The shapeshifter clears their throat self-consciously, ears lowering slightly. “No no, the healer lady told me—well, really she ordered me—to leave it off, so I don’t accidentally smear, uh...whatever she put on me. I’m not sure, honestly.”

Cass nods, her expression carefully neutral, though they could’ve sworn they saw a faint flush in their companion’s cheeks, but they convince themself they were just seeing things. The dragonborn notices Niamh, who stood by the door with the maroon cloak and Max’s shirt in her arms. With a visibly irritated expression on her face, the gnome looks as if she wishes to be anywhere else but here.

Max clears their throat awkwardly. “Um, this is Niamh. She helped carry my stuff since, well, you know…” They glance down at their arms, the limbs still feeling frozen. Although, they were starting to get a tingly feeling in their fingers.

Niamh looks up at the sound of her name, a polite smile forcing its way onto her face. “Nice tae meetcha.” She sticks out her tiny, four-fingered hand. “Mah name’s Niamh Rothach.” 

Cass hesitantly shakes the girl’s hand, and Max tries not to laugh. Because the two had such drastically different sized hands, Cass’s large hand completely envelopes Niamh’s much smaller one.

“Rothach…” Cass muses once she releases Niamh’s hand. “I was just talking to a man with the same last name before you two came in. Relative of yours?”

Niamh sighs wearily. “If yoo’re talkin’ ‘bout a gnome wi’ a mustache an’ a tendency tae gab yer ear aff, then aye. That’d be me da.”

Max and Cass exchange a glance, mirroring each other's confusion. The shapeshifter opens their mouth to ask Niamh if she was alright, but they’re interrupted when a familiar-looking gnome slings his arm around Niamh’s shoulders, a bright grin crinkling his weathered face.

“Och, ma wee petal! Feels like Ah see ye less an’ less these days, whit wi' yer fancy new apprenticeship an' aw tha’.” 

“ _Da_!” Niamh groans, trying to push her father’s arm away. “Whit did Ah say aboot th’ nicknames!”

He removes his arm and holds his hands up in surrender. “Awright, awright, Anno. Ye told me ye wanted ta be treated like an adult, so Ah will.” Her father leans toward her and pinches her cheek gently. “But yoo'll still be mah wee bairn tae me!” She bats him away, her face red with embarrassment. 

Max watches the two with a heavy heart, realizing their parents were never like that with them when they were around. Their entire body tenses up when the sudden memory of their family surfaces in their mind, unbidden. The shapeshifter violently shoves the thought from their head. _Why would you think of that now, of all times?_ They glance around briefly to see if anyone noticed, and their eyes lock with Cass’s, who was watching them with quiet concern. Max hastily averts their eyes, avoiding the concerned look on their companion’s face.

The man turns to Max, and his eyes widen when he realizes they’re the only person he’s yet to be acquainted with. “Where’re me manners? Captain Marcas Rothach, glad tae see ya up an’ aboot.”

They nod in acknowledgment, attempting a small smile. “Max, and thank you. For helping us, I mean. You didn’t have to.”

Cass gives them an incredulous look, but she doesn’t comment. Marcas continues on excitedly, talking about the town and the diner.

Niamh’s eyes look like they’re starting to glaze over, and Max feels a twinge of sympathy for her. Halfway through Marcas’ long-winded rant about his job, Niamh’s head perks up, and relief washes over her petite features. The shapeshifter’s ears twitch slightly as they hear her quietly mutter something to the effect of “Thank the spirits,” in gnomish before she smiles brightly past her talkative father.

“Da, if ye don’t min', these two ur prolly wabbit frae thes morning’s crisis. I’ll gang ask Pa if we can fin' somewhere fer them tae bide, okay?” Without waiting for a response, she hastily retreats from the conversation.

Marcas’s words die out, but his smile hardly wavers even as he watches his daughter walk across the room over to talk to her other father. The three of them stand around awkwardly as they wait for Niamh to return. Max considers saying anything to break the silence, but they come to the conclusion that nothing could be said to dissipate the tension, so they keep their mouth shut.

The older gnome clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Weel, Ah suppose Ah shuid gie back tae mah post. Devon’s prolly wonderin' wa Ah’ve bin gain fur sae lang.” He gives the two a small two-fingered salute and leaves the diner. 

Hardly even a minute passes before one of the staff—most likely the host—comes up to Max, looking apologetic. “Ah’m sorry, Ah won’t kick ye oot, bit ah mist let ye ken we hae a strict na bits, na sark, na service policy.” Max nods along, while Cass looks immensely confused. The gnome continues, speaking in a heavy gnomish accent. “Yer mukker 'ere kin order, bit Ah’m feart ye can’t 'til ye reach th' proper…uh…riatanasan aodaich. S-sorry, mah Common isnae th' best.” 

Max offers an amicable smile. “It’s alright, I can speak Gnomish pretty well, so I understood what you meant.” The host smiles back in relief before one of their coworkers calls over to them and they go back to work.

Cass looks at them inquisitively. “You speak Gnomish?”

They shrug, shooting her a small smirk. “One of my many talents. It comes in handy when you’re trekking through the Feywilds.”

She studies them for a moment, her gaze full of curiosity. “Huh…”

The conversation carries on haltingly until Niamh returns, looking a bit more energetic than earlier. “Awright, there’s a howf doon th’ road that ye kin bide at fur th' time bein’. It's th’ only howf aroond ‘ere that haes rooms muckle enough for… well, someain o’ yer stature.” She regards Cass with her peculiar amber gaze. “Yer actually ferr lanky, even fur a human.”

Cass looks a little confused at first, but then she seems to understand what Niamh meant, her face flushing slightly in embarrassment. She clears her throat awkwardly. “Um, yes… so I’ve been told.”

Niamh waves her hand reassuringly. “Ah didn’t mean it as an insult, Ah jist don’t see a lot o’ human folk aroond ‘ere these days.” She beckons for the two travelers to follow her as she heads out the door. “Ah’ll shaw ye th' way.”

After leading them to the inn, Niamh bids the two goodbye and heads back to the hospital. At the front desk, they both compile their money, which…isn’t a lot, to the pair’s dismay. Max realizes that between the two of them they can barely afford one room, much less two separate ones. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were almost flat broke,” they mutter to Cass after they paid for their room, now waiting for the innkeeper to come back with the key. The dragonborn looks more than just a little embarrassed about the whole situation. 

Cass huffs in annoyance. “It doesn’t help that someone stole half my gold last week. It’s not my fault I was robbed!”

Max glances at her dubiously. “Ehhh, no offense, but it’s quite easy for a thief to just grab your stuff and bolt if you don’t protect it properly.”

Cass looks a bit taken aback by their words. “It was in my pocket, how else was I supposed to protect it?”

They scoff, unimpressed. “Really? What in the world made you think that’s not the first place they look?”

She scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. “W-well, maybe not everyone knows that, okay?”

Max stares at her incredulously. “You must be new to this whole ‘on the road’ thing, but learning how to protect your belongings is like, one of the top three rules on the road.” They sigh, shaking their head. “You’re lucky you got me to help you. I’ve been doing this for a while.” 

Cass looks like she’s about to argue, but the young fey innkeeper clears her throat and holds out the key with a disinterested expression. The dragonborn takes the key, and she stomps up the stairs to their assigned room.

The fey sighs, clearly unenthused. “Enjoy yoor stay at Hogan’s Howf, naw refunds,” she drones in a monotone voice. Max throws her a quick thanks before hurrying up the stairs after Cass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, looking back at this chapter I realize I might have to compile a glossary or something of the slang that the gnomes use so yall know what the hell they're saying. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it, and hopefully I can crank out the next chapter soon!

**Author's Note:**

> don't expect consistent updates, but I should be posting the next chapter sometime this week (sorry I totally lied last time lmao)


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